


The King, his Shield, and his Sword

by made_of_lions_and_wolves333



Series: Blended Melodies of Dark & Light [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Epic Bromance, F/M, Gen, Power Trio!, Redeemed Morgana (Merlin), arthur lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 13:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20742860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/made_of_lions_and_wolves333/pseuds/made_of_lions_and_wolves333
Summary: Gwen watches the lives and friendship of Arthur, Merlin, and Lady Morgana gradually unfold into something spectacular — the greatest team Camelot has ever seen in history.[ Mergana Endgame. Arthur Doesn't Die AU. Power Trio!]





	The King, his Shield, and his Sword

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrytteMystere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrytteMystere/gifts).

One day, the stars seem to align perfectly and suddenly Arthur, Merlin and Lady Morgana are all orbiting around you.

First, you are just a handmaid serving Lady Morgana, one slightly embarrassed to admit that you knew much more about making armor than knowing what it was like wearing pretty dresses that made the boys stop and stare, like she did. But you really do not mind working under her at all, since the Lady Morgana frequently treats you as a trustworthy friend and nothing less than her.

Meanwhile the city girls fawn over Prince Arthur day in and day out. Farm boys idolize him. Uther admires having a son. And Arthur, is mostly all haughty charm and cocky remarks in return. There certainly have been days when he honestly made you worry for the future of Camelot if he truly was the sole Heir to the Throne.

Though Merlin, sweet and gentle Merlin… appears as a mere scrap of a boy, eager for decent work and was even hungrier for friendship. You, cannot fathom why this is. He seems nice enough on the surface. Polite, witty, and he's always ready to share his cheer or a smile. Why would anyone want to deny Merlin’s company, back where he came from? What had made his village hate him so much? Where does that quiet longing for acceptance in his eyes really stem from?

* * *

You follow along, learn more, and Lady Morgana tags along as well for the greater good, helps out when she can (when she wasn’t plagued by such awful nightmares.) You cannot even imagine having Morgana's willpower — acting as the perfect princess during the day even though she was crying often behind closed doors after dark— you don't know what it is like at this stage in your life having the spine to stand up to Uther, challenging his beliefs. 

She seems too advanced for this city at times, too hopeful, and wise beyond her years. The people different from Camelot’s natives don’t disgust her — she is weeping over dead witches, of all people. Morgana in fact, unlike Uther, would welcome shifts in the social chain.

“If I was ever Queen, People of Magic would not have to fear me,” she tells you once, in strict confidence. “I would accept them for who they are and treat them as our equals.”

“I doubt Camelot would be that sort of Kingdom anytime soon.” You chuckle at the thought nervously, brushing it off. “You know the Old Ways tend to frighten them. I could not imagine walking shoulder to shoulder with a real witch up the street. I wouldn’t even know what to say to them.”

Morgana’s heartfelt stance fades, and she looks away from you as if she had just been slapped. Her self-protecting walls go back up. You just think she’s embarrassed for being such a naïve dreamer — in the same way that you were embarrassed for being a girl who was raised more like a boy by her father. You move forward, continuing to brush her hair, trying to show her it’s alright. No matter how silly her dreams or motives are in the future, you’re just glad she has that tender heart of hers.

* * *

You don’t see it yet. That Morgana would do just as she said.

And, you couldn’t yet determine that this trio circling around you, would one day, become the most well-known line of defense in all of the Western hills. The greatest team Camelot has ever seen in history — Arthur the Fabled King, with Merlin living as his Shield, and Morgana as his formidable Sword. Three people who came together against all odds; who cherished each other deeply, defended each other time and time again, who would die for each other if need be.

It’d be the sort of thing sailors would sing songs about and something that’d inspire poets to write ballads for through the ages.

* * *

They would sometimes walk down the halls like this, in a familiar formation of their own, and, you’re usually not that far behind them.

(They captivated you. All three of them, always, separately and of course, together.)

Arthur’s striding two steps ahead of Merlin and Morgana with vigorous energy, cracking jokes and teasing Merlin about his attire. Lady Morgana naturally sways in the middle of them, simply content to be out in the daylight — you think she really looks good and happy there with them — they’re a pretty blur of red, ocean blue, and golden brown fabrics. Until, Morgana actually — genuinely — laughs at what Arthur’s just said, and it’s been a long time you’ve seen her like this (too long), that it’s a shock to their systems. The lovely sound apparently takes Merlin by such surprise that, he suddenly smacks right into an open door ahead of him.

It can't be helped. Arthur’s own laughter starts to ripple and roar like a lion, and it practically echoes through the entire castle. 

(That’s also the first time you let yourself see how handsome Arthur's smile really is.)

* * *

You are not really shocked by the graceful way Morgana can hold a blade. For she makes it look like a dance, ironically ladylike, as she twirls and sidesteps Arthur’s mock-attack just right.

Morgana’s the embodiment of perfection, of strength. You envy her right now, just a little, once more.

On the sidelines next to you, Merlin just watches her move in pure awe, as you both are aware that it is not every day one in Camelot would generally see a girl in the training pit with Arthur.

You watch brother and sister spar for a straight hour or so. It’s an entertaining show nonetheless.

They’re both huffing now, beads of sweat glistening in their hair. It’s a close fight when it ends: though Morgana, of course, wins with one last second to spare — she grins like a mischievous fox, dodges Arthur’s final blow and ducks under his swinging arm, spins around to point her weapon right into Arthur’s back in one quick fluid motion. Arthur loses his footing as he tried to rotate with her, but he fails hilariously. With a grunt, he’s suddenly on the ground, kicking up dust.

He looks up at his sister with a mixture of annoyance and pride. “You stole my move,” he comments.

Morgana merely giggles, offering him a helping hand up. 

Merlin finally goes to interject their bickering and hands his flask of water over to them, and then, he loudly congratulates Lady Morgana on her victory for the whole training pit to overhear.

“She cheated!” Arthur insists.

“Getting a taste of failure for once may actually do you some good, darling brother.”

“Yes, it’ll build character,” Merlin adds.

“No one asked you, Merlin.”

Morgana giggles again, flattered.

You roll your eyes, soon joining in on their silliness.

* * *

Then, King Uther has your father killed under charges of treason and practicing witchcraft. The event rips you apart before you could react, before you even know what to say to right the wrongs.

You cry with your brother that day. A lot. You are nearly inconsolable, and your own distaste for Uther’s paranoia grows and hums in your veins. 

Arthur pities you. Merlin brings you flowers a week later — white lilies. And, Morgana rages.

(She mourned and spoke out on your behalf without question. You didn’t even know she had outright blamed Uther of vile misconduct, not until Merlin informs you that Uther threw her in a prison cell last night for just that.)

With Merlin, you boldly confront Arthur for help soon after this, which seems to snap him back into shape, thank goodness. He personally sees that his sister is freed on the spot and fed properly. Merlin wraps her in a blanket and lowers her carefully next to a warming fire. 

Merlin, Arthur, and Morgana clearly had their differences in the past, but, what they now have in common was this bond they share, that unique care they hold for one another.

* * *

You remember a time when they dressed up for a harvest festival once, years ago.

“This is boring.” Arthur had declared, (as if celebrating a healthy head of crops was _that _far beneath him?)

"Oh, hush. I think it’s nice the children wanted to invite us,” Morgana replied. She smiled sweetly at Merlin to her left, who visibly agreed without a word.

You knew that Morgana had tried her mightiest to instill some humility back in her brother. He rarely listened though, as all brothers tended to be guilty of sometime. She could appreciate his bravery, but, Morgana wanted him to be better, she wanted him to stay smart, grounded. Arthur, also, lacked a mother. A nurturing, womanly touch. Morgana therefore was the closest and only female figure he knew (apart from you wandering in the background then) who was left to fill that empty space in his life. They both seemed to be aware of that fact.

Around that same time, you also started to notice Morgana personally seeking Merlin out for advice. On occasion, you’d catch those two whispering to each other in dark corners or dim-lighted doorways.

First, you had the urge to ask Morgana yourself what on earth she was doing, sneaking around, and why she had been relying on Merlin’s comfort and support so much? What about you? Why wasn’t she coming to_ you_ for a shoulder to lean on, like before? Why were there secrets she could obviously tell him, but not you?

But, you had stopped in mid-stride.

You had realized in that instant, things were indeed changing for you, for all of you. Your friends came to trust each other on a deeper level at that point, outside of the separate relationships you already had with each of them. You learned that your father’s death had evidently and ultimately distracted you for a period of time. It was _understandable_, Merlin had said, not judging you. And you never heard Morgana complain about you distancing yourself from the others, either. Of course she wouldn't complain. She knew better.

Although, that, was a double-edged sword. Your grieving had blinded you in the meantime, to witness what really connected between them. You were preoccupied and just missed out on some details.

* * *

It's not long until Lady Morgana and Merlin eventually recruit your help to smuggle a little Druid boy out of Uther’s clutches. You’re successful and your friends are increasingly thankful for your tolerance, and willingness to listen. 

You never thought before, that you’d commit treason to that extent, but you hope it’s worth it. The sick little boy with the ominous spiraling mark branded on his chest is safe. Safe to be reunited with his people.

Then, you’re severely surprised to learn from Merlin that following morning, that the Lady Morgana wants to stay.

Your mind races for a reasonable response as you think it over. Your dear royal-born Morgana wishes to remain out here in the dark wilderness, wishes to sleep and eat and travel with this strange uncivilized tribe of magic-worshipers?

Your initial confusion only grows when you realize Merlin seems delighted about this. He’s happy for Morgana’s sake, for whatever reason you can’t understand. Though, who are you to argue with Morgana over this? You simply work for her. Her words have meaning and hold importance and you’re supposed to obey her. Besides if Merlin, a servant and trusted friend who has known Morgana for_ less_ time than you have, is open to her decision — then, you should be too. You agree with him in the end. Even if you still don’t comprehend how or why, you put on a brave face, smile at her, and you let her go. You let Morgana follow her tender heart. She’s your friend. You can do this. You accept it. 

* * *

Yet, as Lady Morgana falls out of your orbit and isn’t living in Camelot anymore — well, the boys appear lost somehow. It takes a few days for them to adjust to her absence. They still have you to remind them of her, yes, and they know that. Still it’s just not the same, you understand with a fresh jab of sorrow.

When Uther’s hunting scouts cannot find the Druid tribe or where their camp _used_ to be, amazingly Arthur is the one who finally calls off the grand search for Morgana.

He openly trusts your word. He trusts Merlin’s word, too. You reassure him that Morgana had left with the tribe willingly. She was not kidnapped, tortured, or held captive. She wanted this. She is happy, and free, alive. That’s the important part you need to focus on. 

Then the boys lock eyes, intently. Arthur sighs. “You know, I did wonder… before… ” You keep gazing at Arthur curiously, who is staring back at Merlin imploringly as he finally speaks up again, “Is it true? I need to hear the truth, Merlin.”

You have no idea what he means.

But Merlin does, and nods. “It’s magic. Morgana and I have magic.”

So, you cry for the first few days after that night, for being so blind all this time, still not knowing what to do about it otherwise.

Arthur himself, is somewhat caught in a whole surge of emotions for a while… but, it is obvious. He misses having his sister nearby regardless of her true nature. And, he is still too attached to Merlin these days to resent him for long. Merlin is loyal and compassionate as ever, and will not leave Arthur’s side even if Arthur tries pushing him out the door.

Whenever you are still in doubt, Merlin is also the one to always remind you that it is for the best, at least for now, for Morgana’s own comfort and sanity.

You forgive Merlin and his secrets because of this. You forgive Morgana. You forgive yourself.

* * *

King Uther falls ill, heartbroken, and irritable over the course of the next year.

Arthur mopes about, the poor boy. He’s not quite sure what to say to his dying father, and you wonder if he is actually dreading carrying the weight of the Crown by himself now that it’s happening faster than you all thought it would?

In the winter, Uther dies in his sleep with a fever.

Master Gaius grows quieter for a time and misses Uther the most. You… well, you find it deeply strange grieving the king that killed your father. If anything, your heart simply weeps in Arthur’s stead, for the people in the kingdom. 

Now with Uther gone, and the heaviness of his madness lifted, Merlin does not have to hide himself any longer. Arthur openly accepts him and for what he is, formally naming Merlin his personal Sorcerer of the Court. The boys gradually shine brighter and brighter with talent and distinction, side by side.

In fact, you can proudly admit that Camelot is only flourishing under Arthur's guidance.

And you, are granted the opportunity to become Gaius’ new apprentice, learning the ways of medicine. Healing people in this manner brings you radiant joy, because you find it remarkably easy. Helping your patients, keeping them calm and healthy is what you do best. You are able to cure so many wounds or fevers the Knights are afflicted with. 

Camelot soon comes to acknowledge you as their most skilled nurse and midwife.

* * *

That Summer season arrives gradually, and, the fated day Lady Morgana returns to Camelot at last, it’s on Arthur’s nameday. He’s ten and eight, now fully a man. A good man, finally prepared to become the High King of Camelot in his own right.

The Kingdom takes a day to rejoice and sing and dance for the special Coronation Night ahead. You stand there next to your boys, laughing with them on the royal platform amidst the Square, until Arthur is nearly dropping his wine in surprise...

You look up. Lady Morgana, finally comes into your sights, sauntering through the vibrant crowd toward the platform.

She’s older obviously, as are you. She’s prettier, even, just in a different way. She’s more assured. Powerful. She naturally commands attention.

Gone was the young, bashful Morgana you remember most. Gone were her usual dresses made out of light colorful silk. What is suddenly standing in front of you, is a witch holding a stern and cunning look, hardened by the winter and long distances and the mountains. She’s draped in layers of grey fur and elegant black lace. Her lips are dyed dark red. Her gorgeous raven-dark curls are no longer flowing freely down her back. Now, her hair is a crown of twisted braids spotted with silver beads; a style that represent status and victory. Smooth black lines of kohl frame her sharp jade eyes.

Merlin meets your eyes and he’s speechless. His wave of awe almost mirrors yours perfectly.

Even Arthur shifts in his seat. His confident posture falters just a little when Morgana bows her head before him in greeting. “What a beautiful day for a celebration, Your Grace.”

Arthur rises from his father’s old chair, blinking at his sister with uncharacteristic disbelief… and then without another thought, he seems to melt under the sentiment, moving to pull Morgana into a tight embrace. Morgana soon returns the gesture; and when her arms casually wrap themselves around her brother, her eyes shift aside to find Merlin. Just him, for a moment. You catch her peering at him discreetly enough over Arthur’s shoulder, smirking, batting her lashes. He flushes.

The Morgana from before left as a sheltered little lady tucked up in the shadows of Uther’s castle, and she reemerges today as the proud and capable High Priestess of the Old Religion. 

It’s still odd for you at first, this drastic change, and the common people nearby are staring at her like she’s growing a lizard’s tail under her skirts.

But no one dares to speak out about it, for she still Arthur’s sister and guest. Your ally. And by the Grace of God, you can practically feel the new waves of protective admiration rolling off Merlin (no one is going to ridicule her magic now, not as long as he is right there). He follows Arthur, seeing her up close and gladly hugging her himself, one hand coming to rest on her waist and the other patting Arthur on the back. 

* * *

You love retelling the story of how Arthur managed to drink himself into a silly stupor the night he was officially and legally Crowned, and how Merlin was thrown into the room to clean up the mess left behind, exasperated. Morgana basically did the rest by _dragging_ Arthur to bed, rolling him over and tucking him in. She even removed his boots for him and scolded his senseless behavior.

They were back. The trio was reconnecting and reunited. You caught a glimpse of your younger days, of the younglings they once were beneath the matured, grown individuals they are now. The three friends who hold each other together when one of them was falling apart at the seams. 

They complete each other.

* * *

Even years later, Camelot is spoken of often in many other countries. It’s becoming a true place of legend in its own right and everyone is clearly aware of it. People of Magic are openly welcomed in Camelot; and lawful acts of protecting their children from other radical Witch Hunters are regularly enforced.

Smallfolk themselves far and near hail your King Arthur, for he is the best King they’ve seen in a long while. He is bold and kind and fair, and nothing less. They say he wears justice better than a crown. He is a King that was promised, a boy who was meant to be a proper King of Men. His Knights of the Round Table valiantly swarm the countryside, guarding the people from any unwanted thief threatening this new state of peace.

It is now widely known, that Master Merlin is a comforting hand for the orphaned children, a wise teacher and scholar, a loyal man with a bleeding heart. He is the Shield that defends. Lady Morgana is every inch a ruler herself, and is suspected to stalk through the shadows at night, taking care of the sort of business Arthur and Merlin want to keep quiet during the day. She is the one who makes Arthur’s greedy political rivals tremble with regret. She is the voice of reason for womenkind, the High Priestess who has gained ancient spiritual knowledge from the Isle of Avalon itself. She is the Sword, sharp and true. The leading Magical Ambassador in Camelot who traveling witches seek out for help to undo a vile hex or a ghostly possession.

And since Merlin and Morgana have become a married pair, they do begin to radiate a certain mixed power that even the meanest of Camelot’s current enemies on the outside are reluctant to test.

Still, even as you oversee Morgana’s belly growing large with Merlin’s child, they’ll stroll together up the halls like the years before, like two sides of a scale. Strong and even. Mutually balanced, with King Arthur always stepping comfortably right in the middle of them.


End file.
